


Pay Up, Kaspbrak

by Lywinis



Series: Lo(v)er - Carve it in the Bridge: A Reddie ficlet/one-shot listing [8]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:48:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23504116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lywinis/pseuds/Lywinis
Summary: And one day, we said 'this will be the last token'. And it was.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Lo(v)er - Carve it in the Bridge: A Reddie ficlet/one-shot listing [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686373
Comments: 10
Kudos: 130





	Pay Up, Kaspbrak

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bearfeathers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearfeathers/gifts), [birkin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/birkin/gifts).



> Tumblr Prompt: 
> 
> aineedhelp said:  
> “you owe me a kiss.” ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
>     
>     
>       __
>     
>     
>     _Tell me that you need me on the floor
>     Passed out in your dirty clothes
>     Ask me what the hell I'm looking for
>     Like you don't know?_
>     
>     — DREAMERS, “Sweet Disaster”
>     
>     
>     
>     

**1989**

“Jesus, Rich. How long have you been here?” Eddie’s voice didn’t startle him, so much as it thrummed through him. He tried not to soak in it, the almost mocking words par for the course where Eddie Kaspbrak was concerned. It was veiling actual concern, because a sharp shoulder bumped into him, even as he swayed only because it was Eddie. Anyone else and he’d have stood his ground.

“Mm. Since lunch, maybe?” Richie’s eyes didn’t leave the arcade cabinet’s screen, but he let himself have little sips of Eddie’s profile, cutting his eyes to the side when his attention could afford to waver.

Even now, he was too fucking pretty, dark brows knit with concern as he was bathed in the technicolor lights from the cabinet. The soft glow made Eddie almost dreamlike in the low lights of the theater. Everyone else had long abandoned the cabinets for their movies or home, but Went and Maggie didn’t much care how late he stayed out this summer, so long as he was in before they went to bed.

So he spent his time and his quarters, sinking them into the cabinets here at the Capitol.

“Holy shit,” Eddie said. “It’s fucking eight at night, dude.”

“It’s summer,” Richie pointed out, flinging Ryu across the screen at the computer. He’d long since learned the AI’s tricks, and he beat the computer handily, banging out combos with fingers that hadn’t yet figured out how big they were to get.

“You’re gonna fuck your eyesight even more,” Eddie said. Doe eyes were focused on Richie, brows drawn down in a frown. “Did you take a break at all?”

“Meh,” Richie said, sinking another token into the machine. Eddie followed the movement, brows beetling as he frowned harder. “Haven’t met my match yet. Rules are I play until I lose or until I’m outta quarters, Eduardo.”

“Not my name,” Eddie snapped. He snatched a token from where Richie had them stacked on the cabinet’s screen, folding it in sun-browned fingers. “What do I get if you lose?”

“I’m not gonna lose to you,” Richie scoffed.

“Then you shouldn’t be scared to place a bet, dickhead,” Eddie said, clenching the token. “What do I get?”

“ _Weeee-eell_ ,” Richie said, stretching the word out to the point of it being obnoxious, the vowel long and irritating. While he did, he kicked the shit out of Birdie. “I _guess_ I could be persuaded to leave the air conditioning of the theater and _maybe_ get you an ice cream cone.”

“Yeah, like I want all that fucking sugar right before bed,” Eddie snapped. His eyes flickered to the cabinet, his tongue wetting his lower lip. Richie grinned. He knew Eddie really _did_ want the ice cream.

“Well, all right. We’ll get there, _if_ I lose.” Richie said. His smile turned sly. “But you still haven’t told me what I get _when_ I win.”

“You get to keep ruining your fucking eyesight in the dark.” Eddie watched Richie mash buttons in a complicated dance of pain.

“Mm, I’d do that anyway,” Richie said. His eyes skittered over Eddie’s profile, the soft lighting highlighting him in a way that should be illegal. Richie’s eyes lingered, of course. He couldn’t help it, even as he split his attention between the colorful lights playing over Eddie’s full lower lip and fighting against Eagle.

He lost. Eagle caught him with his sticks and sent Ryu flying.

Fuck.

“See, you’re not as good as you say,” Eddie said, eyes lighting in challenge. “Fight me, you little bitch.”

Richie snorted, reaching for another token. “No.”

Eddie slapped at his hand. “What, you scared?”

Richie slapped at him back, prompting a tussle that didn’t last long and was really more posturing than actual fighting. They broke apart long after the countdown to insert another token had passed, though, meaning Richie would have to start single player over from the beginning. He gave an annoyed grunt.

“Fuck you, dude. Put your money where your mouth is,” Richie said.

There was no one here. Even the bored concessions stand employee had figured out that Richie was harmless ages ago, only here to dunk his allowance into the cabinets, not steal or destroy stuff. The whole place was deserted.

If he wanted, he could—

He leaned in, heart pounding because this would make losing easier to swallow later on. He had to make Eddie fight for it. He could get Eddie off his back for a while, too. Maybe that was for the best, while he sorted his shit out, because this was still a distraction and a half, despite Richie avoiding thinking about it.

If he were honest about it, he had not once avoided thinking about it.

Richie was decidedly not honest with himself, jumping instead into a Bad Idea with both feet.

“You lose…you have to kiss me.”

“ _What_.” Eddie’s knuckles turned white around the arcade token, his eyes going round and then narrowing. “You fuckin’ shitbird, you think you’re funny?!”

“I happen to know I’m hilarious,” Richie said. “If you think you can beat me, put your money down, Spaghetti Man.”

Eddie might actually make change out of that fucking token with the way he was squeezing it, Richie thought. He smirked at him, wiggling his brows.

“Is this another of your weird-ass jokes?” Eddie asked.

“I assure you, I’m deathly serious.” He was. He _was_ , he realized. His heart in his throat, he cut his eyes at Eddie, who was staring at him with consternation on his face. “I win, you gotta pucker up. At least twice as long as you kiss the love of my life.”

“ _Fine_.” Eddie released his death grip on the token. “Put ‘em up, asshole.”

He plonked his money in the machine. Swallowing, Richie did the same.

The tinny 8-bit fight music had never felt so threatening before.

_Round One!_

Richie took player one, Eddie took player two. Ryu and Ken faced off, the music swelling as Richie edged the stick toward Eddie, who was gingerly figuring out the controls.

“I’m gonna whoop your ass, Eds,” Richie warned.

“I waited until you tired yourself out,” Eddie snapped.

“Sure, Eds.”

“Stop calling me that, asshole!” Eddie flicked the control stick to the left, mashing a button.

_Hadoken!_ Richie had to back off to avoid the fireball while Eddie seemed to realize that he might actually have a chance, if he could just figure out how in the hell he did that.

“How did I do that?” Eddie asked, befuddled.

“Like I’m gonna tell you, numbnuts,” Richie said. He flicked his own stick to the right, popping off a combo.

_Shoryuken!_

“What the shit was that!?” Eddie squawked, as Ken went flying.

“Pure skill, Spaghetti Man. Hope you brought your chapstick.” A couple more punches and kicks, and Ken lay on the pixelated ground, defeated. Richie sniffed in an obnoxious way, grinning at Eddie, who scowled at him.

“Best of two,” Eddie snarled, taking hold of the stick again, fingers poised over the buttons. Richie felt a shiver travel down his spine, and his grin faded.

_Round Two!_

Eddie was a far more aggressive opponent than he realized, forcing Richie backward. He seemed to catch on to the fireball now, Ken chasing Ryu backward as Richie blocked and jumped over them.

“Hold still, shitbird,” Eddie growled, and Richie debated throwing the match. It seemed to mean a lot more to Eddie than he realized, and just as he was about to toss in the towel, Eddie hooted as Ryu was left in a smoking heap from a lucky fireball that Richie was a second too late to dodge. “Hah! Suck it, Tozier!”

Well, shit. Now his honor was on the line.

_Final Round!_

Richie hunched over the controls, scowling, as Eddie ramped up his aggression, chasing Richie backward as Richie baited the fireballs until Eddie got close enough. As he spun the stick to start a Shoryuken, Eddie’s sharp elbow jabbed into his ribs, jostling him away from the controls.

“Hey!” Richie yelped, as Eddie jabbed him again. “You dirty fuckin’ bastard!”

“Fuck you,” Eddie growled. “Get good.”

They jostled for the controls, elbowing and ramming each other until the game declared Ken the winner, through a lucky smash of buttons by Eddie.

“Hah!” Eddie said, throwing his arms up, nearly missing punching Richie in the face by inches. “ _Hah!_ Fuck you, Trashmouth! Pay up!”

Richie grumbled, pocketing the rest of the tokens. They’d keep until tomorrow. He dug in his Velcro wallet for cash, found he had nearly five bucks left, and then shrugged. He could afford the ice cream.

“All right, Spagheds. Dirty rotten fuckin’ cheater.” Eddie jabbed him in the ribs again, sticking his tongue out at Richie. It was so mean. But…Richie found he didn’t mind. It was Eddie, after all.

He slung his arm around Eddie and they clattered from the Capitol right before the late show exited, rambling toward the ice cream shop down the street. The summer air felt good after the air conditioning, Richie had to admit.

* * *

**2017**

Richie put down the controller, taking a water break. He’d been playing online for a couple of hours, a good way to spend a day off with nothing to do. The PS4 was the first console he’d owned in years, and thanks to a birthday that had swung by without him remembering, he had the opportunity to pick up where his teenaged self had left off.

Street Fighter was real different from what he remembered.

It was a lot of button mashing right now, as he figured out combos; he mostly edged out fighters with cheese as he figured out what the fuck he was doing.

“How long have you been at this?” came a voice from the doorway.

Richie grinned at Eddie, seeing him out of the office for the first time since lunch. “Couple hours.”

“And you haven’t gotten up to stretch at all, have you?” Eddie chided him. “You’re gonna get a blood clot.”

“You’re a blood clot.” Richie obliged Eddie by standing and stretching. “Your bosses finally cut you loose?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I gotta call the lawyer.”

Ah, right. The whole reason Eddie was bunking with him in the first place. The divorce. The big D, and not the one Richie would usually joke about. Eddie had moved in with him three months ago, changing coasts and jobs and timezones.

It was fine, though. Richie ate better now than he did when he lived alone, Eddie had a place to crash. It was all good. Richie hadn’t told him about the Kissing Bridge, or carrying him out of Neibolt. Even his childhood crush seemed to be too much, so he kept quiet, just enjoying having Eddie nearby and alive.

It was _fine_.

Eddie shuffled into the kitchen for a bottle of water, and Richie returned to his seat for another round.

“This looks different than I remember,” Eddie said, returning to the living room. He settled on the other end of the couch, instead of going into the back to call the lawyer right away. Which, reasonable. Richie would have to psyche himself up, too.

“Been some improvements,” Richie said, sticking with Ryu for now. He’d learn the other characters later. Right now, he had nostalgia to indulge in.

“Bet I could still beat you,” Eddie said.

“Fuck you, you only won because you cheated.”

“Fine. Bet me.” Eddie said. “I win, you do dishes for the next two weeks.”

“Well, what do I get if I win?” Richie asked. “And for the record, you could have asked me to do the dishes, manlet.”

“Fuck you, I’m five-nine, that’s perfectly average. Just because you’re freakishly tall.” Eddie scooped up the spare controller from its charger. “What did we bet on last time?”

“I don’t remember,” Richie lied.

“I do,” Eddie said.

Richie stared at him.

He could feel his heartbeat speed up, his palms sweating against the hard plastic shell of his controller. He swallowed hard, trying not to watch the way doe-eyes stared into his soul. Christ. He was never gonna get over Eddie Kaspbrak.

Then again, Richie shouldn’t have moved him in if he wanted to get over him.

Did he? Did Eddie remember, how scared shitless Richie was, declaring his feelings obliquely, out in the open like that? Did he remember how it felt, fighting over the controls, struggling to win the last match?

“Ice cream, remember?” Eddie prompted.

He didn’t. _Oh, thank fuck._

“Yeah,” Richie said, jumping on the continuity error. “Okay. Fine. You win and I get the biggest fucking tub of ice cream and you can’t bitch about what I put in it or eat it with.”

“Fine,” Eddie said, powering on the controller. “Set it up.”

“You sure about this, Eds?” Richie taunted him, already flicking through the menus.

“Fight me, you long-ass bitch.”

Richie giggled, dropping them into character select.

“Holy shit, there’s like sixty of these guys now.” Eddie looked a little overwhelmed.

“Yeah, I know, right?” Richie thumbed over to where Ryu was, locking in his selection. “Ken’s over there, though.”

Eddie locked him in, and they were off.

_Round One – Fight!_

Eddie was still aggressive. Thankfully, Richie was ready for him, this time, having been practicing his blocking and sliding and dashing. He was running circles around Eddie, toying with him before destroying him.

Richie grinned at Eddie when Ryu knocked Ken out.

“One,” Richie said. “Best out of three.”

“Oh, fuck you, you’ve been practicing for hours.”

_Round Two – Fight!_

Richie should have seen it coming. He should have, but he was too busy taunting Eddie with well-placed _Shoryukens_ that chased him across the ring but never quite connected.

What did connect was a socked foot in his ribs. He yelped, jerking away as Eddie dug in, tickling him. Quick as a flash, Eddie zipped in and tossed Richie out of the ring on screen.

“Oh, fuck you, Kaspbrak,” Richie grumbled. “That was a cheap shot.”

“Can’t take the competition, can you?” Eddie jeered.

“Go sit on the loveseat, you baby bastard man,” Richie said, pointing.

“Fine, fine,” Eddie said. He moved, and Richie unpaused the game for the final round. “Best of three, Rich. You ready for this?”

“Yep, prepare to be destroyed, Spaghetti Man.”

Richie sat forward, elbows on his knees as he concentrated. He was gonna win this one. They traded jabs and feints, the game music getting frantic as the timer counted down. Eddie got impatient and fell for Richie’s juke, and Ryu grabbed Ken, tossing him behind him for massive damage. Richie followed up with a tie-breaking uppercut—

_KO!_

He hopped to his feet with a whoop.

“Suck it, Kaspbrak!” He grinned, tossing down the controller. “After thirty years I’ve reclaimed my title!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie said, though he seemed more amused than angry. A good change from the last time they’d played. “You remember what you bet?”

“Sure did, Eds,” Richie said, turning in an exaggerated circle. “I want the biggest tub of chocolate—”

His words died as he turned back around to face Eddie, who was in his space and reaching up for him. Richie felt like his brain was leaking out of his ears as Eddie cupped the sides of his face, standing up on tiptoe and pressing his warm, dry lips to Richie’s.

Oh.

_Oh._

Eddie hummed, licking at the seam of Richie’s mouth, and Richie let out a low noise. Eddie took it as invitation, pressing against Richie with his tongue, and Richie lost all feeling in his knees. He stumbled backward, landing hard back on the couch, Eddie following. Richie suddenly had a lap full of Eddie Kaspbrak, his hands on Eddie’s waist, Eddie’s thighs radiating heat against his own.

_**Oh.** _

Eddie took kissing as a full-time job somewhere in his twenties, Richie was convinced. What started as a sort of chaste kiss became filthy in seconds. He was going to die, and what killed him was the noises Eddie made, hungry little whines against him that turned into a full-blown moan when Richie slid his hand down Eddie’s back to the curve of his ass and squeezed.

Finally, finally, Eddie pulled back, lips slick and plump, red from where Richie had nipped him – because he was forty, not dead, and if Eddie wanted to kiss him, Richie was damn sure Eddie would remember him. He sat back, and the weight went straight to Richie’s senses, making him groan. He looked smug, pleased as he traced cool fingers down the front of Richie’s shirt.

“Too bad you didn’t ask for this again,” Eddie said. “You could have kept it.”

“Jesus,” Richie said. “Is it too late to pick another prize?”

“I mean, I did let you win,” Eddie said, looking mischievous.

“Bullshit.”

“Nope,” Eddie said, popping the ‘p’ like he’d taken lessons from Richie and simultaneously making it sound pornographic. “I threw that match.”

“But why?” Richie said. “I’d have—”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Eddie said. “I wanted to kiss you.”

“Oh.” Richie sounded like a fucking idiot right now, so maybe Eddie was right. “Since when?”

“Probably thirteen,” Eddie said. “Maybe earlier.”

“Oh.” It was all he could say in the face of the foundations of his life rearranging themselves to accommodate Eddie, once again. It wasn’t that hard of a move, really. “So in the theater—”

“I panicked,” Eddie said. “We lived in fucking _Derry_ , Rich. What was I supposed to do?”

Richie made a noise of understanding. He squeezed the back of Eddie’s thigh and Eddie shoved him gently. There was a fond look on Eddie’s face as his fingers stroked through Richie’s hair.

“So that’s why I beat the shit out of you in the middle of a movie theater and then made you buy me ice cream after.” Eddie looked down. “And why I let you win this one.”

“Bullshit,” Richie said.

“What?”

“I want to beat you fair and square, Eds. My honor is on the line.”

“You dickhead,” Eddie said, laughing. “You can’t just be happy that the game had a deeper meaning?”

“Best four of five?” Richie asked.

“I have to call the divorce lawyer,” Eddie said. “Later.”

“But Eds,” Richie whined. Eddie tugged his hair, and Richie tilted his head up, pliant.

“Rich,” Eddie said, seizing his jaw and pressing another firm kiss to his mouth. “I will fucking _destroy_ you later.”

“Good enough,” Richie breathed against Eddie’s mouth, feeling the corners of Eddie’s mouth turn up into a smile. “You’re a cheating bastard.”

“I play to win, Tozier, the two aren’t mutually exclusive,” Eddie said, and kissed him again.

**Author's Note:**

> They're such little shits. The most obvious game of Gay Chicken there ever was. You're welcome, Charlie. 😉


End file.
